Hell-bound
by demena4president
Summary: I'm sorry, I really am. But that won't change what happened that night. It's too hard to think about. I hate myself. Then you come in the picture and now everything's spiraling down. Two-shot
1. Chapter 1

**Quick idea to make up for the lack thereof for my other story (Two World's Collide) :3 Sorry it's taking so long you guys, hopefully this twoshot will get the ideas flowing. **

I promise, it was an accident. Even if that doesn't make me feel any better about myself, it was completely unexpected. I'll regret it forever.

Despite that, it won't change anything. I can be sorrier than any human being on earth, but it would've still happened. The night would have still gone on piece by piece, just as it had. I don't feel worthy to be on the planet any more.

I hate myself for that night. I force myself to eat and sleep, but I can feel my body slowly shutting down. Maybe it regrets everything just as much as I do. Maybe it's ready to give up, too.

So here I am, sitting in a dark, gloomy bar. I have my drink in my hand, and I sip it occasionally, like one would sip a hot tea or a coffee. Normally I would be drunk right now, but something told me that I should be careful. I had nothing better to do but listen to tired grudges, so I sat back and only took a small gulp every now and then.

My house is only a couple blocks from this building, which makes it easy to get to when I need to forget the world for a while. But nothing, not even alcohol, can make me forget the sound of screeching and shattering and a high pitched scream that pierced straight through the blackness of the night.

I shudder on the stool, close my eyes, and breathe deeply, trying to erase the memory. When I next open my eyes, there's a woman sitting next to me, ordering an ice water.

Trying to distract myself, I look closely at her, trying to determine why she's here. Her eyes are red, and she's holding a ring box. A leather jacket is wrapped tightly against her body, showing off her curves. Her hair is curled, but a little messy, which gives me the idea she's been riding a motorcycle. She's wearing expensive earrings, but everything else seems rather ordinary, so she either has a wealthy family or boyfriend, but she lives on her own and pays for her own clothing. The earrings must have been a gift.

"Can I help you?"

I'm jerked from my musing by a soft voice and inquiring eyes. The woman has turned, and a soft smirk is playing at her lips.

"Sorry, I don't think anyone can help me," I answer honestly, still looking her over. Her hands are clasped tightly—a sign of anxiousness, nervousness, embarrassment, or possibly all three…? She's set the ring box on the counter as far away as she can without it being mistaken for someone else's. This means she probably doesn't want to look at it. Did she propose and get rejected? Was it another expensive gift? If so, who was it from?

"There's always someone to help."

She tossed her brown hair over her shoulder. I met her chocolate gaze. "Not if you're going to Hell."

This didn't seem to faze her. Instead of making a snappy remark, she held out a hand. "I'm Alex. It's nice to meet someone like me."

"Someone like you?" She had caught _me _off guard. That usually never happens.

"We're both Hell-bound," Alex said this with a wry smile.

Her ice water came, and she gripped the glass with both hands. There were still black smudges on her cheeks from ruined mascara, but I didn't bother pointing it out. It gave her a more human look. She had obviously been crying.

The hard look in her eyes didn't match her fragile smiles. My gaze travelled south. I was surprised to see she was wearing a dress under the leather jacket, and the bottom half that went down to her knees had strange dust smudges on it, but that could've been from the motorcycle ride. The shoes she was wearing were strangely nice, too—like dress shoes. Either she had strange taste or…

A light bulb went off.

Alex had been in a hurry.

I played out all the scenarios in my head, and I finally figured it out. What had happened.

"Who was it?"

She looked put out at the sudden question. "What?"

"Who did you reject?"

"Oh. That."

The brunette set down her water, then thought for a second. She didn't seem too surprised that I had figured everything out, but she was probably still struggling with her emotions when it came to what went down. Something about her… I was genuinely interested to know. Usually I come to the bar to feel like I'm not a part of the world, but now here I am, trying to get to know a complete stranger.

Well, a really pretty stranger. Something about her reminds me of my sister, who's far away, fighting for the country. I think it's that independent air around her.

Alex sighed. "What is there to explain? I was about to break up with him, and then he shoved the box in my hand and told me to open it. When I saw the ring… I knew exactly what he was thinking, and I couldn't do it. So I…I said no and I left. I don't really think it that big of a deal, though. I needed to get rid of him as soon as possible anyway."

I nodded slowly, but something still didn't add up. "If you're so happy you got rid of him, then why were you crying?"

For the first time in our conversation, her eyes glinted with untold pain. Then they were unreadable again. She obviously wasn't going to tell me.

"It's not important," she said in a hoarse voice, apparently choking back more tears. "It's just…"

Maybe she _was _going to tell me. "It's just…what?"

"He was the last thing I had to remind me of my brother."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a battered photograph. Handling it carefully, she turned so I could see.

The face.

That face.

My mind flashed back to bright lights and wailing sirens. I got up without a word and walked out of the bar, the flashbacks tearing at me like dull blades.

I'm Mitchie Torres, and that photo reminded me of everything. Everything I try to forget.

No matter how much I try and fight it… no matter how many lives I save…

I'm Hell-bound.


	2. Chapter 2

**PART TWO!  
>Your reviews totally inspired me 3 Love you all! (PS sorry this took so long, I'm really out of it lately : )  
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It's barely been a month since I met Alex. Despite the time lapse, I still can't get her out of my head. The fact is, she's the only thing that's _in _my head. I keep thinking of her smirk, those words…

_It's nice to meet someone like me._

Her predicament still had me curious. Why was she so eager to break up with this boyfriend? Did she still have the ring? Was she going to keep it? Where is the rejected guy now? What is he feeling?

All of this curiosity is making me hungry, so I make my way to the fridge. When I look inside, there's nothing but a half-full jug of milk and a sandwich from a week ago. I doubt that's going to work for a meal; I apparently need to go grocery shopping.

Heaving a sigh, I got my car keys and trudged outside to where my dust weary vehicle was waiting. Once I start driving, I breathe deeply through my nose and try to focus all my concentration on the road. The less I think, the better. Honestly, if I could just drive off all my problems, I would. Unfortunately, I don't have enough time for that… or enough gas.

The grocery store is only five miles from my house. I would've walked if it was warmer outside. I park in one of the few empty spaces and walk inside, wondering why this place is so busy. Usually there are only a couple cars parked outside. Business is never this good.

Answering my question, an enormous sign hangs above the sliding doors. They're having a sale today. _Good timing_, I say to myself as I get one of the carts.

Luckily, grocery shopping takes up a lot of my mind space, what with adding up prices and percentages in my head. I don't have enough room to think of.. _her. _I refuse to say her name, because then she'll start to invade my thoughts again. I'm tired of wondering. I want to _find out_.

You might be wondering why I'm so… curious all the time. For one, I'm not exactly your everyday citizen. I've been undercover, looking for a terrorist who is rumored to live here. So far, I've had no luck, but I definitely like this location. Everything I need is in walking distance. I find myself almost hoping I _don't _find the terrorist sometimes.

Besides, if I leave, I won't figure out what happened with Alex.

I realize I'm thinking of her again, and resist the urge to curse aloud. Shaking my head, I go back to my numbers and continue picking out what I want to be eating for the next month. It takes me around an hour, but I was just glad to be doing something that took up all my mind space.

Pushing the now-full cart, I get in line, looking aimlessly through magazines hating and loving on the celebrity world. It makes me scoff, just looking at some of the headlines. The paparazzi will turn _anything_ into a story.

Finally, it's my turn. I don't look at the cashier, instead, I start counting the cash from my jacket.

"Don't I know you?"

The voice is familiar. I look up and immediately wish I had picked a different cashier. Who else could it be but my favorite mystery woman, Alex! She had her brown hair pulled back in a messy bun and a nametag with a smiley face that gave me her last name: Russo. The name made my heart clench.

Her foot was tapping when I peeked over the counter, and I saw her eyes had been flickering back and forth from and to the clock, so either she really hated her job or her shift was almost over. I let myself soak in her presence before bothering with an answer.

"No," I lied smoothly. "I don't believe we've met."

Alex laughed a happy sound that almost brought my own lips into a smile. She was beautiful, even in a grocery store uniform. The recognized me just as well as I d her, and we both knew it. This was just a game. "Of course! You couldn't be the stunning woman from the bar. She had a much better sense of style."

"And you couldn't be the mysterious goddess I met in a bar," I shot back, "because I don't the she could be caught dead behind a register."

She huffed, which I thought was rather cute. The person behind me tapped my shoulder.

"Excuse me," he said, "can you hurry up? I'm kind of rushing here."

"Sorry, sir," I nodded at him. Alex started checking out my items faster than I could watch. She even bagged them and put them in the cart. I slid my debit through and started to walk away; I knew exactly what would happen, and I knew my curiosity would finally get satisfied.

"Hey, wait!" the brunette called after me while helping the man who was in a hurry. "This is my last checkout and my shift is over. Want to have coffee?"

Just as I had predicted. I let my face twist into one of pleasant surprise. "That would be lovely!"

She smiled and gave the man his receipt, before going and talking to one of the cashier persons nearby and handing them her nametag. Then she was next to me, her dazzling chocolate eyes sparkling.

"How about Starbucks?" she asked.

"On your salary?" I teased her, loving the way she rolled her eyes.

"Okay, we'll go on _your_ salary," she replied, not missing a beat. With that, she jogged ahead of me to a motorcycle on our left and put on the helmet in the back.

I knew it had now become a race, even though neither of us had said anything. I grinned to myself as I ran, pushing the car ahead of me. I probably looked ridiculous, but that didn't matter.

The bags went into the trunk, then I put the cart back and ran back to my car. The thing started only after three tries, and then I was racing through the parking lot, going a little faster than I probably should have been, but I wanted to win this race. She already had a head start.

Unluckily for me, she was already at Starbucks when I arrived, her motorcycle helmet tucked under her arm and her hair released from its bun-prison. I laughed at how some of it stuck up in random places, and she saw my face from the short distance and crinkled her nose at me.

"So, I guess you got here first," I said as I approached her. She smirked in triumph.

"Yes, well, it wasn't hard when you decided your idea of a race was to be a turtle," Alex opened the door for me and gestured me inside.

"Hey, in the books, the turtle won!" I defended myself, only making her shake her head at me. We both ordered our coffee and I paid, narrowing my eyes when I realized I was obeying the orders of a stranger.

The cup warmed my hands, and I let it seep into the rest of my body until I was as cozy as a person could be. Alex had ordered iced coffee, so it was no surprise to see she had set it on the table instead of holding it. She took a sip, then looked up.

I saw her eyes flicker down to my mouth; a sign of attraction. This made me blush, but I tried to conceal it with a cough. Both hands were clasped and set not far from her coffee, almost like a business gesture, but I knew it meant something else. When I noticed her left leg was shaking under the table, I knew she had a point she wanted to get to.

"Why are you all red?" she asked me. I couldn't tell if she knew I had caught the sign, or if she just was curious.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied. Seeing her completely sober is even better than seeing her after letting alcohol haze my view. Usually it's the other way around, but with Alex, it's like seeing a flower through a fog, and then on a sunny day. Her beauty is more clear and defined, and it almost makes me breathless at the way she doesn't even realize how gorgeous she is.

_Focus Torres_, I scold myself, _you're not a teenager any more. Stop thinking like one. _

She frowned and tilted her head. "Why does it always feel like your analyzing me?"

Wow, she really catches on. I smile a little before handing her a business card from my pocket. "Mitchie Torres, Private Investigator and Detective."

Alex laughed as if she didn't believe me. I urged her to look at the card, and once she read it over, she seemed more serious. "Really? You're a PI?"

"Yeah. I went in to become a police officer about 5 years ago, and they told me I had natural talent. Before I knew it, I was on my own, cracking cases. There's nothing like the feeling you get after letting a family know why their five year old daughter disappeared, or where she went, or even better, getting to return them home."

The woman across the table suddenly sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing, then brightening, signaling she had come up with something of an idea. I didn't like the looks of that.

"How successful have you been?" she asked, and I couldn't help but wonder if this was a trick question.

"I've finished 9/10," I said, a tiny bit of pride sneaking in to my voice. "Trust me, I'm successful."

"Then maybe you can help my family!" she exclaimed excitedly, clutching the business card as if it was a lifeline. "We're trying to figure out who killed my brother!"

Suddenly there was a black hole at my feet, sucking all the blood and soul from my body. I felt sick, and my heart started beating faster than I had ever thought it could.

"Hello? Hello? Mitchie?"

Her voice brought me back. I swallowed, my throat dry. I didn't know what to say.

"Sure, I'll help," I finally nodded, not sure what mess I had just gotten myself into. If I had said no, that would've surely been suspicious. Besides, this might give me a chance to right the wrong.

She pulled out that picture again from the bar, and set it down so I could see it easily. "That's Justin," she said, her voice suddenly wavering slightly. "He was killed by a hit-and-run. A woman found him during her evening job and contacted us with his cell phone. There was nothing to do for him."

I wanted to go home and hang myself right then and there, but I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to listen without emotions clogging my thoughts.

A tear hit the tabletop, but Alex kept going, even as she cried. "The doctors told us that he was still alive when the killer drove away, and that if someone would've called, he might've survived."

The pain in her eyes was enough. "Why are you Hell-bound?" I asked softly.

"Because," she choked out, "I was supposed to walk with him. He wanted to wait for me, so he could buy me a soda. I was angry at him at the time, and I told him to go without me."

She was sobbing now, the heartbreaking sound making the gaping hole in my heart only wider.

"If I had let him wait," she managed to get out, "he would still be alive."

I got up and went around the booth to her side, where I didn't say anything. I just let her cry into my arms. A few tears of my own threatened to escape, but I held them back.

"Alex," I said softly, "it wasn't your fault. It was mine."

"How was it your fault?" the brunette sniffed into my shoulder.

I let the truth come out. "I was the driver. I was the one drunk in a pedestrian area going way too fast and not using the brakes. I was the hit and run-er. _I _killed your brother."

The crying stopped. She stayed in my arms for a second, before shoving me away so hard I fell back off the seat and hit my head on a chair. Everything was tinged red, and I tried to blink the stars away as I heard her seat scrape backwards and footsteps leaving.

"Alex, wait!" I called.

"Why should I stop?" she taunted me from somewhere around the door. "Remember that night with Justin? Remember? You didn't stop."

The door slammed closed, and I lay there, stunned, as I realized she was right.

When I got up, I slowly walked back to my car. I sped up when I saw someone had written a message in lipstick on the windshield.

_See you in Hell. _


End file.
